


Powers Anonymous

by hbxplain, MissMariel



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Group Therapy, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Asexual Logan Sanders, Genderfluid Patton Sanders, Janus Has a Snake Named Ouroboros And That’s Important, Janus Sanders with Life Drain Powers, Logan Sanders with Forced Empathy Powers, M/M, Multi, Patton Sanders with Plant Powers, Remus Sanders with Reality Glitch Powers, Rich Corporations Are a Problem And No One Is Surprised, Roman Sanders with Reality Glitch Powers, Superpowers Provided By Magic Lockets, The Twins Have a Dog Named King, The Twins Tolerate Each other, Thomas Sanders as the Group Therapist, Thomas Sanders with Telepathy Powers, Trans Virgil Sanders, Virgil Sanders with Future Powers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:27:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25517287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hbxplain/pseuds/hbxplain, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMariel/pseuds/MissMariel
Summary: A man standing beside him in solidarity, telling him it’s going to be okay,and Virgil understands how his future vision works but he finds this one a little hard to believe.Or: Virgil attends a weekly therapy group for people whose powers have a particularly destructive side. Ideally, he will make some friends and finally get to have something steady and simple in his life.(In reality, he should have known better.)
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Thomas Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil/Creativity | Roman/Logic | Logan/Morality | Patton, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Thomas Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Thomas Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders & Thomas Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders & Thomas Sanders, Morality | Patton Sanders & Thomas Sanders
Comments: 5
Kudos: 52





	Powers Anonymous

**Author's Note:**

> This was (and is still being) written in collaboration with the wonderful Haven, for the July event in the Discord server!  
> Hope you'll enjoy!!

“It can’t be that bad,” Virgil reasons, his hands gripped tight around the rim of the sink.

_A stranger yelling at him, someone begging him to stay, the sound of someone breathing too fast to be healthy, is it him? Is it-_

“It can’t be worse than this,” he corrects himself, glaring at his reflection. It’s cold in his apartment. Dark. Most importantly… lonely.

_A young man reaching out a hand toward him and for once he does not draw back, the future begins to fa_ de but the echoes of a gentle voice carry into Virgil’s natural thoughts, and he takes a shaking breath.

Currently, Virgil’s getting a vision every time he breathes wrong, but they’re not the really solid kind that last minutes and include important details. These are the kind that flash behind his eyes when he blinks, giving him _hints_ of things that will happen but never anything real, never anything _concrete_.

He sighs and grabs his locket to put it on, but hesitates. Should he leave it? The dark stones set in silver have gotten him some weird looks in the past, but maybe this time will be different. 

He frowns at his reflection holding the locket in its half-open hand. Of course _now_ the visions are keeping quiet. Shaking his head, he decides to slip it into his pocket. He can still decide if he wants to put it on before he gets there. Then he takes his phone to go through his list once again. 

Registration form? Check. 

Phone, wallet, keys? All there.

Locket? Yupp. 

Pen and paper in case he would need to write something down? Check. 

Comfy socks in case they would do something that would require taking off his shoes? Check. 

Some water? Yeah. Looks like he got everything. 

So why does he feel so grievously unprepared? No, no! This is just what he does, works himself up into a flurry and gets all caught up in his thoughts. Not today. Today he is-

_Lost, alone, there’s someone chasing him, the sound of reality tearing beside him, his locket clinks hard against his chest and he realizes someone’s trying to grab it, to hold him back-_

Virgil’s a mess again, no, he can’t help it, it’s all too much-

_A stranger smiling in the sort of way that gives Virgil future deja vu, gesturing dramatically and grandly and telling a story Virgil wants to hear the end of-_

He sniffs and breathes in slowly, counting to four. He can do this. He’s never going to get better if he doesn’t do this. Or at least something like it. And a group setting centered around the one part of his life that doesn’t _consistently_ send him into a roaring panic seems like a good place to start.

He scrolls through his checklist again. Everything’s in line. He slips his phone into his pocket and wraps his hand around his locket for comfort as he heads out of his apartment. Today will be okay. Virgil will be okay. Today will _teach_ Virgil to be okay.

He locks his apartment door three times, just in case, and then he squeezes his hand around his locket and sets off.

☼☼☼

The building towers above him, a cold grey, almost menacing. Some colorful paper letters spell "RICHENS COMMUNITY CENTER" in the windows. It vaguely reminds him of kindergarten. 

Taking a deep breath, Virgil looks around. Not too many people come to this part of town, so the sidewalk in front of the building is pretty much empty. Still he cannot shake the feeling of _being watched, a man in a dark coat, a timer running out, a locket, golden, not his own, falling--_

He takes another deliberately slow breath and steps inside before he can change his mind. 

“I’m Patton!” someone says, and Virgil gasps and stumbles backwards, nearly falling before the person before him reaches out to grab his arm and keep him steady. Virgil pulls away maybe too quickly to be socially acceptable, but he smiles at the person as recompense, and that seems to be enough for this weirdly cheerful stranger. “Hi!” they say, giving Virgil the chance to connect their voice to their face.

“Hi… Patton,” Virgil says. He’s _trying_. He hasn’t run away yet! He’s going to stick this one out, at least for the first meeting. “I’m Virgil.”

“Nice to meet you!” Patton says. “Today I’m using they/them pronouns, and you can tell by the blue sleeve over my locket. I have other colors for other pronouns, but I’ll remind you for a while until you catch on!”

“Oh, uh, thanks,” Virgil says. His eyes are caught on the locket dangling from around Patton’s neck. Its base and chain are silver, but in its center it holds two red teardrop-shaped gems, positioned almost like a heart. It takes Virgil a little too long to realize he’s staring, and he coughs awkwardly as he rips his eyes away. “I use he/him. Sorry.”

Patton smiles, quizzically furrowing their eyebrows. “Why would you be sorry?” they ask, and Virgil _tries_ to think of an answer, he really does. But Patton moves on before Virgil’s even decided whether he should list one answer or several, and that’s probably for the best.

Patton reaches for Virgil’s hand and he yanks it away, and he's about to apologize again but Patton just smiles, wide enough that it squints their eyes. They gesture for Virgil to follow them as they turn to jog up a set of stairs to the second floor of the building, and Virgil is pleased to find that they do not allow room for silence.

“Just so you know, I’m not, like, a greeter, or anything!” Patton says, looking over their shoulder for a moment just to smile at Virgil. “I’m here for the Powers Anonymous meeting today, and I wanted to make a great first impression on everybody! Wait, that _is_ what you’re here for, right? The meeting?”

Patton’s step doesn’t falter for a moment, but Virgil’s heart sure does. There’s no reason for it, no reason for him to suddenly be afraid of this person knowing everything when, frankly, they seem far more focused on what people think about them than what people are actually doing.

Virgil’s mouth feels dry. “Yeah,” he says, and he doesn’t mean for it to come out sounding so damn suspicious. But when he’s this anxious, everything he says sounds suspicious, and there’s nothing to be done about that.

_A newly familiar locket sleeved in green fabric, a hand reaching out to rest comfortingly on his shoulder, a soft voice that Virgil suddenly recognizes from more than just flashes of future-_

“Nervous?” Patton asks, shooting Virgil a sympathetic look over their shoulder, and Virgil slumps slightly with relief. It’ll be okay. Patton’s not a threat. He’s worried about nothing, for no reason. He needs to be at this meeting.

“Always,” Virgil immediately replies, and Patton laughs. Virgil _almost_ recoils, but something about Patton is careful and soft. Honestly, it might have something to do with how often Patton’s shown up in his future visions in the past month or so; Virgil didn’t know their name until now, but he’s been seeing them in visions nonstop. And yet, despite the worrying amount of _not-great_ visions he’s had lately… Patton has never shown up in a vision as a threat to Virgil, or even as mildly rude.

“I get it!” Patton says as they reach the top of the stairs and do a little hop off the last step. “Well- Not quite in the way you mean it, maybe, but I’m definitely always nervous about my _power_ , which is probably still something you can relate to, so!” They shrug and take off down a hallway to their left before stopping abruptly in front of the only decorated door on this depressingly bland floor.

_‘Powers Anonymous’_ , it reads, among a slew of inspirational slogans and cat pictures. Virgil takes a deep breath. It’s okay. He needs to be here. He _needs_ to.

“Good news!” Patton says, throwing open the door. “You’re the third to last person, and then we can start! So I’m gonna disappear for a bit, and when the other two show up-”

“Patton,” says a man only a few years older than Virgil. He’s standing in the middle of the surprisingly spacious room, looking out over the field of unnecessary beanbags and holding a clipboard covered entirely in Disney stickers. “I just got word from the others, and they can’t make it today, so this’ll be it!”

Patton squeals, closing the door and throwing themself down onto the nearest beanbag, and Virgil looks around the room with wide eyes.

Beside the man (who Virgil assumes to be the group therapist) and Patton, there are two guys about Virgil’s age in the room. One is pale, with dark brown hair and reading glasses and a notebook and pen, and the other is dark-skinned with lightened splotches across one side of his face, with a black beanie and a tiny yellow snake curled around his gloved finger. The book guy is sitting perfectly upright in his beanbag chair, which looks a little unnatural, whereas the snake guy could not look _more_ like he owned the place if he _tried_. Virgil is intimidated by them both.

“Pick a seat, pick a seat!” the therapist insists, and Virgil realizes how long he’s been staring and flushes as he scrambles towards the nearest beanbag, the one right next to Patton’s. Patton seems elated, so maybe it’s not so bad. “Great! Well, since this is everyone for today, let’s start with the easy stuff: Introductions! I’ll go first.” The guy grins wide, his sandy blonde hair bouncing as he falls down onto a beanbag, dropping his clipboard onto another. “I’m Thomas, he/him, and I like Disney! My power,” he says, taking his amber locket out of his pocket, “is telepathy!” He smiles, the skins by his eyes crinkling as he puts his locket back in his pocket. “As you can imagine, it's quite a helpful power in my field, but using it can easily go very wrong,” he chuckles. “Now it’s your turns! Your name, pronouns, something fun about you, and your power! Then, if you feel comfortable sharing it at this point, your power’s flaw—the reason you’re here. It’s not a requirement, but some people find it helps them to be upfront on day one, so we can get right to the root of things!”

Virgil swallows, hoping it isn’t as loud as he thinks it is. Luckily, Patton jumps to go first—literally—and any attention Virgil may have gathered is instantly redirected anyway.

“I already introduced myself to all of you, hi! I love baking and dogs and baking for dogs, and my power materializes and grows plants,” they say, and Virgil waits for a demonstration since Patton seems like the type to give one. But Patton doesn’t, and they also don’t make eye contact with anyone in the group. “Um, the big problem is that they’re… not all that pretty. They’re really thorny, actually, and they tend to wrap around people and squeeze and…” They laugh, but it’s painfully forced, and Virgil’s heart pangs. “And it just kind of happens whenever I feel something a lot, so…” They look around nervously at the ceiling. “I was told there were nullifying measures put in place…?”

“There are,” Thomas says softly, but the notebook guy speaks up so fast he almost interrupts him.

“Whenever you feel something. You mean when you are particularly angry, or sad?”

“You would think!” Patton laughs, through gritted teeth. “But, no, it’s any emotion. Even when I’m happy. So I’ve gotta balance in the middle.”

All Virgil knows of Patton are the five minutes he’s known them and the several second-long future flashes, but that alone is more than enough to understand that that kind of flaw must be _crushing_ for Patton. They wear their heart on their sleeve, Virgil can already tell, and they feel _strongly_ —in _both_ directions. Virgil can’t imagine having a power that punished emotions when every emotion was so integral and so intense.

The notebook guy speaks up quickly to go next, which Virgil is all too fine with. “My name is Logan,” he says, his voice cool and collected, “and I have the unfortunate power of forcing my… _feelings_ onto the people around me.”

“Oh!” Patton says, looking a little confused. “So…”

“I’ve been his best friend for three years, and we _still_ don’t know if I actually like him or if he’s using his power on me accidentally,” the snake guy says, and Patton winces.

“Oh.”

Logan turns his nose up slightly. “Yes. Consent gets… messy. So I just don’t form relationships with anyone.”

“Except me!” the snake guy says, sounding very pleased with himself.

“Except Janus,” Logan amends.

“Speaking of Janus,” the snake guy says, “I’m him.” He holds up his hand, stretching out one finger to show off the corn snake wrapped around it. “And _this_ young lady is Ouroboros, my emotional support snake. I love her more than I will ever love anyone else, and none of you will ever be able to change this.” He sighs, gently dropping his snake hand to his side as he falls back against the beanbag, and while his tone is exasperated, Virgil catches the tenseness in his motion. “And my power literally sucks the life out of those I touch.

"So as you can guess I didn't form many close bonds either. Except for Logan, of course." Janus looks down and Virgil takes that chance to subtly look him over again. He really shows barely any skin except for his neck and face. Logan adjusts himself in the beanbag as Thomas clears his throat once. 

“You’re up!” Patton says, gently urging him on, and Virgil hums quietly to himself for a moment before wrapping his hand around his locket, taking a breath, and beginning.

“I’m Virgil, he/him, I- Uh, I like loud music and dark rooms, and my power is- I get… future visions, kind of? In flashes.”

The room waits, and Virgil kicks himself. _Right_.

“But it’s- It’s always the worst possible outcome,” he says, forcing himself through the words. His hand squeezes tighter around the locket. “The absolute worst. And I overreact and I… I ruin everything. In preparation for a ‘worst’ that never comes. … _Usually_ never comes.”

That was pretty good! This is fine. Virgil is okay. Virgil needs to be here.

Patton winces sympathetically. “Well, hey! We’re gonna be a _best_ possible outcome!”

Virgil, despite himself, cracks a smile. “If you can make it happen, I’ll be in your debt.”

Thomas claps his hands together proudly, grinning at the whole group. “I like this group! It’s nice to meet you all, I think we’ll have a lot of fun.”

“We’ll have to teach him what the word _means_ first,” Janus mumbles, looking melodramatically away from Logan, “but after that, _sure_.”

Logan looks affronted. “I know what it _means!_ Fun, noun: enjoyment, amusement, or lighthearted pleasure-”

“Oh, my god,” Janus groans, and Thomas laughs good-naturedly.

“Alright, alright,” he says, and Janus rolls his eyes and extends his snake toward Logan, seemingly as a peace offering—which Logan accepts. “One way or another, I think we’ll manage. _But_ , I don’t want to get too far without at least _meeting_ the other two members of our group, so I’m going to send you four off with some homework and then call it a day, okay? I’m sorry for such a short session, but I really don’t want anyone feeling excluded.”

Thomas reaches into his bag, which was so far hidden behind his beanbag, and pulls out a bunch of cards. "I'm giving each of you three of these, one negative, one positive and a neutral one,” he says as he starts handing them out. "The back is blank, but I'd like you all to fill them with situations involving your powers that made you feel that way until the next meeting." 

He hands Virgil his cards and for just a second they make eye contact. Those intense golden eyes bore into his and he can practically feel the therapist read his thoughts. Quickly he looks away and starts shuffling through the cards, his breathing going just that little bit too fast. 

They're color-coded. A bright orange for Pride, a dark red for Anger and a deep purple for Confusion. Looking around the room, he can see Patton has a card with a deep blue frowny face labeled Sadness, and one of Logan's cards is almost blindingly yellow and reads Happiness. Janus is putting his away, but drops a green card with the word Jealousy on it. 

Virgil can’t imagine feeling _pride_ for his power, especially not in the short period of time between now and the next meeting. And he’s afraid to feel anger, because if he’s angry in regards to his powers, it’s definitely going to be directed at himself. Confusion… Well, that’s pretty common. He figures he’ll have that one filled out by dinner time.

Patton squeals with excitement, but now that Virgil knows what triggers their powers, he wonders exactly how muted that excitement is. He brushes that thought off though—none of his business—and smiles when Patton looks in his direction, and Patton looks pleased enough with the exchange. “It’s so nice to meet you all,” they say, jumping up off the beanbag. “I can’t wait for the next meeting to be so much longer! See you then!” They wave at Logan and Janus, and the two boys absent-mindedly wave back as they strike up a distracted conversation with each other.

But then Patton turns back to Virgil, and they start to move forward but then pause. Virgil tilts his head, and Patton just grins and holds up their hand, high-fiving the air. “Ta-da! Touchless affection! Have a good day, Virgil!”

The way Virgil’s heart skips a beat is so unfamiliar that, at first, he thinks he must be offended. But as Patton practically skips out of the room, Virgil quickly realizes that he is instead feeling… Warm. Fuzzy. Appreciated, and safe.

Which is arguably worse.

Logan and Janus don’t look like they’ll be leaving the building any time soon, still lounging carelessly (in Janus’ case, at least) across the beanbags, and Thomas doesn’t look like he plans to make them. Virgil must hesitate for longer than he realizes, because Thomas suddenly appears in front of him with a warm smile.

“Hey, Virgil,” he says, and Virgil forces himself to smile back. He probably looks like he’s dying. He might be dying. Thomas’s smile turns sympathetic. “The community center is open from six to ten, so you hang around as long as you want! If you ever just want to be not alone, you can come and sit here with me. I never really leave, if I can help it.”

“Oh,” Virgil says, because as much as his anxiety is screaming at him to turn tail and run, that… doesn’t sound horrible. The idea of having someone to just exist next to him when he’s panicking, not to talk or to ask anything of him but just to be and to remind him that he’s alive… That’s something he’s envisioned a lot as the ideal scenario.

Even so, he doubts he’ll be able to gather the courage needed to take advantage of Thomas’s offer. It’s one thing to know that peacefulness is here, and another entirely to come forward and claim it for himself for a while. Even if that wouldn’t _quite_ be what was happening. That’s what it would feel like. _Selfish_. Taking up Thomas’s time.

“Virgil,” Thomas says, gentle but firm, and Virgil blinks several times to snap himself out of his thoughts. “I’m sorry to intrude. But I would not have offered to let you sit with me if I thought you’d be selfish to accept. I would love to have your company, Virgil, really.”

“You don’t even know me,” Virgil mumbles.

“I’d like to!”

“Oh,” Virgil says again.

Thomas smiles once more and pats Virgil’s shoulder, and Virgil doesn’t mind. “Think on it! I’ll see you next meeting?”

“Yup,” Virgil says, because _that_ is something he’s willing to commit to, at the very least.

“Then I’m looking forward to it,” Thomas says, and that’s enough.

Maybe… Maybe this will be okay. The group doesn’t seem as _tiring_ as most people tend to be; they’re all pretty chill. Patton’s the most energetic, but they’re _kind_ and really that’s the part Virgil needs most anyway.

(Although the ‘calm’ aura they, Logan, and Janus balance out into is very relaxing, as well.)

Yeah. Yeah! This will be okay. Virgil needs this, and Virgil can _have_ this.

He pushes open the community center doors, but he pauses to take a picture of the open times listed, just so he won’t forget. Thomas said it was fine, after all, and it’ll do him good to exist in a space that isn’t just his dimly lit apartment.

This could be good for him.


End file.
